Hands
by Alexandri
Summary: One-shot future fic. If I tell, there'd be no point to reading it. Besides, you trust me, don't you? R&R.


A/N: I don't know where this came from. The best I can figure is that it stemmed from my hand fetish and Chris Marquette has gorgeous hands. Ah, well, here it is. And, just in case you're wondering, I've actually started chapter 7. See, I'm not slacking. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to add these. But I'm sure you've figured it out by now.

His hands were covered with cuts and calluses, reminders that art, like life, was not easy and often painful. Joan loved his hands. She could sit for hours tracing the various scars or nipping his calluses with her teeth. She said they told a story about his life and should, therefore, be cherished. Whenever he tried to soften them, she'd frown at him. "I'm not fragile, Rove," she'd said. "I can take it." Then she'd set out to prove it once again.

"Hey."

A satisfied smile claimed his lips as he glanced at her. "Hey."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Softening my hands."

She nodded and sighed in resignation. "That might be for the best." Then she held her hand out to him.

It surprised him how quickly things changed. Adam took her hand and got up. Carefully maneuvering the IV aside, he settled on the bed beside her. Ever so gently, he reached out and brushed the hair away from her face. "Every time I think you can't possibly be more beautiful, you prove me wrong."

Joan laughed soundlessly. "I don't feel beautiful. I feel gross. I'd so love a shower right now."

"I think you've earned the right to be gross and beautiful at the same time."

She covered her mouth with her fist to keep from laughing out loud. "The way I see it," she began as she reached out to caress the blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, "he has me beat by miles."

He followed her gaze to their newborn son sleeping in his arms. "I'd call it a tie."

"You would." Joan sat up slowly, drawing his concerned gaze. She just smiled. "I had a baby, Adam, not heart surgery." She cupped his jaw in her palm and brushed her lips across his. "It's okay if I sit up."

He wasn't convinced, but decided not to push the issue.

"I'm not fragile, Rove," she whispered. "I can take it."

Returning her smile, he slipped his arm around her waist. Joan laid her head on his shoulder and delicately traced their son's features. "Thank you," he murmured against her brow.

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"That's good to know," he said with a soft laugh.

"It seems a little surreal," she said quietly. "I mean, can you believe we did this? We made him."

Adam nodded, understanding exactly how she felt. "I know."

She looked up at him then. "I love you."

"I love you."

Her gaze slid back to their son. For a long moment, they just watched him. Adam wondered who this person would be. He suddenly couldn't wait to find out.

Joan leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead. When she sat up again, there were tears in her eyes. "My boys," she said and caressed his cheek. "I'm a very lucky lady."

"Not as lucky as I am."

She shook her head at him. "Luckier." She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then laid down. Her eyes drifted closed before her head hit the pillow.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Adam stood and set his son in the hospital crib. He placed a kiss on the boy's temple and turned to tiptoe out of the room.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?" he asked, going to her side instead.

"We'll get you some new work gloves in the morning, okay?"

Rolling his eyes, Adam grinned at his exhausted wife. "Okay." Only Joan would think of something like that at a time like this. "Get some sleep, all right?"

She nodded. "'Night, honey."

"Good night, Jane."

Making it out of the room this time, Adam leaned against the wall by the door. It was times like these that he had to remind himself that this was his life. He wasn't dreaming it. He was a dad. Nothing would be the same for either Joan or him. Whistling tunelessly as he went in search of coffee, Adam stuffed his hands in his pockets. Life just kept getting better and better.


End file.
